Thinking About Work On A Sunday Night

The time is 1:00 am on a Monday morning and I am walking back and forth in a fruit stand parking lot. I am really bored now pacing around this car. There's a brief flash of the desert, walking my post with nothing but the ticks of the second to keep me company. I glance over at my company and they are passed out. My best friend in the back seat of a two-door, gold colored, Saturn sedan. Her cousin has her feet propped up through the window sitting shotgun. I've probably had my fifth cigarette of the hour. It's not the anxiety, but the boredom that's killing me now.

It was Sunday and we were looking for something to do. Sitting on the porch of my best friend's house trying to sort out the order of the day. Her cousin brought up the beach. I glance at my watch and check the time. 4:00 pm. Not exactly prime hours to start planning a trip that very day, but these girls are weird and really set in their ways. To hell with it. I decided to tag along. My best friend's girl was going to be swinging by to pick us up.

Grab the towel and the extra shirt to wait. I really just wanted to chill out and rent some movies, but I guess this is okay too. The gold Saturn pulls into the driveway and we embark on this trip to the beach. We have some laughs in the ride over there and a few more when we get there. They strip down to their suits about seven or eight in the evening and goof off throwing shells and such. BFG was just chilling out on a chair with me taking pictures. It slowly dawned on me that I was now stuck in a Bud Light commercial. Three gorgeous girls romping on the beach with one guy making sure everything was cool; joining in on the fun occasionally. My mind went back to that movie EuroTrip with the guy mistakenly checking out his friend the girl. I shuddered and took precautions to avoid such situations. Walking ahead of them. Chit-chatting with BFG, kicking shells, just whatever it took. Pretty as they were, I vowed not to be that dude. My life is strange enough without that shit.

The girls are hungry and we get some pizza at a place called Wahoos. Everyone is tired and looking bored. Too many yawns and slumped postures ruled the night at this point. It didn't help my yawns when my BF cousin mentioned she had work at six in the morning. With that, we leave. We hit Los Fresnos and pull in for snacks. Then the lights come up. Who the hell did these guys pull over? Turns out that it was us for not using a damn signal to pass someone. Not one cop but two. BFG is now talking with the cops for about 15 minutes and ends with handcuffs. She was arrested for a second offense with a no insurance tag on the wrap. The officer asks if anyone is able to take control of the vehicle. I have to speak up and talk to this dude. Imagine a guy wearing cutoff camo shorts, a Social Distortion shirt, and empty shell casing around his neck having a reasonable conversation with a cop. Sometimes these things just write themselves. I told him the situation about how none of us knows how to drive standard. The bottom line was if no one could, then the vehicle gets towed. Icing on the fucking cake. He hands me a card with a phone number and address where to pick up BFG and mentions a quick how much it'll cost when she able for release the next day.

Now I am driving around the parking lot making a lot of sudden stops trying to figure out standard. BF's cousin is freaking out with every moment while BF is just trying to remember phone numbers. After about twenty minutes, I figure out how to drive from 1st to 2nd gear. Calm down ladies, 'cause we are getting home. BF's cousin was calling everyone could think of and freaked out since I was driving purely in second gear. I thought it was going okay, but I didn't want anymore hysteria for the evening. We agreed to pull over at some fruit stand near the expressway. We each called everyone we knew and the amount of people answering their phones was nil. I hate calling people for this kind of shit, but I guess it had to be done. We finally get a hold of BF's friend to come and get us. She lives in Edinburgh which was pretty fucking standup of her to get us. BF was getting some sleep in the back while BF's cousin was too stressed out constantly fucking with the radio every chance she got. We had to leave the car when our ride showed up and made our way back home. Now it's close to three in the morning and everyone is tired as hell. I give BF's friend some gas money when I get dropped off and thank her.

Everything worked out the next day. BFG got picked up outta jail and the car was still at the fruit stand.

For all the promise and splendor the beach offers, it's really not that great, but at least I semi-learned standard and hung out with friends. As shitty as the night was, maybe these are the moments we have. I don't think I could trade them for anything else.

Except the beach......fucking humidity......